OK, so I have been ignoring this place for a while, spending most of my time rehabilitating the old garage into a usable space. Yesterday I took most of the day off and just allowed my body to recover a bit. I have been a little sore lately. Not sore in the angry or mad sense, just tired muscles.
Julie reminded me that we took a day off last week to golf, and I reminded her that swinging a club and rooting around in the underbrush is not the same as resting my body. I spend a fair amount of time looking for errant golf balls just so that I can walk them back to the fairway, drop them at arms length onto the grass and launch them to a new patch of forest closer to the pin. That is the hope anyway. Actually my game is improving after something like 17 or 18 total rounds under my belt. Sometimes I get my initial drive to land 40 or 50 yards from the pin, pitch it onto the green in two strokes, then completely melt down with three or four putts. Other times I am off in the woods off the tee box, finally get to the green in 7 strokes, then sink a long putt. Go figure. Most of this I attribute to having offended the Gods of Golf in some way by having unknowingly said or done something; like bragging, wearing the wrong belt, or using the wrong color of ball. These are all bad Mojo and cause havoc with the unachievable goal of reaching par.
All of this is unending fun.
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